


inevitable

by mearcats



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Teasing, UST, and they've already been lovers, season 12, since Luka can't stop saying 'friends'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mearcats/pseuds/mearcats
Summary: inevitable: certain to happen; unavoidable.And that's what Abby and Luka are, even after saying they'll just be friends. They're making their way back to each other, because there's no universe where they won't.





	inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another "this was supposed to just be fluffy and ficlet but these idiots got feelings in it" fic. Takes place between the end of Two Ships and through until they get back together in I Do.

Luka doesn’t even make it to his car before realizing that he is, in fact, an idiot. He doesn’t want to be  _just friends_  with Abby, and he’s fairly sure she doesn’t want that either.

She had been so happy and so open, staring up at him hopefully. And all of that after their laughing and joking throughout the evening while they worked through a disaster, and the...well, “nice” didn’t even touch on their night and morning. Then he’d obviously said something wrong, and she’d closed up, panicked and scared.

Abby had confused him, saying their night was nice, and then asking “but?” when he had agreed. Maybe it was one of those cultural things, or maybe it was just her. Either way, it had thrown him for a loop, because he’d meant to tell her he didn’t want to live without her in his life anymore. He wanted everything with her, but if the friendship between them was all—that was enough.

It is enough, but it’s also not, especially when both of them want more. He nearly turns on the spot to go back to Abby, to try for a do-over with that conversation, when he stops and frowns. Words are clearly not his forte, so maybe it’s best to show her how much he wants her and wants to be with her.

Yes, that’s a much better plan.

&&&

It takes Abby nearly three days to realize that she had  _maybe_  jumped the gun suggesting that she and Luka stay platonic. For one, she cares about him so much, more than she can say, and she has for far longer than she’s comfortable admitting.

Secondly, she’s pretty sure she’s a dumbass.

She’d spent the first couple of days after their conversation pretending it didn’t happen, pretending that nothing had happened at all. She wasn’t sure she could function if she was ping-ponging between hope, disappointment, and lust like that. It was made easier by their shifts not overlapping, not until tonight.

Luka isn’t going to be an ass to her; those days are behind them. But this is uncharted territory for them, and she doesn’t know what they’ll be like or how they’ll interact now.

She gets her answer as soon as she walks into the lounge, and nothing she had imagined over the past few days—when she had let herself—can prepare for him beaming at her from his locker as he straightens his tie.

“Haven’t seen you the last couple of days. I—we have a few minutes before our shift starts, want to walk over to the Jumbo Mart for coffee?”

“Oh! Um...sure,” Abby says.

He launches into a story about one of his patients from the previous day, and she’s engrossed enough she almost doesn’t notice the way his hand lingers at the small of her back as they squeeze past the people lingering at the entrance to the ambulance bay. His hand stays a little longer than is necessary, but she just figures she’s very...attuned to his body. Besides, it’s Luka, and he’s a tactile guy.

She dismisses it until they get back and are getting ready to clock in. She’s nearly at the door when he stops her. “Oh, hold on. Your coat…” Before she can ask look down, he’s in front of her, gently extracting her hair from where it’s twisted into her collar and brushing it over shoulder. “There,” he says, eyes dark as he steps back.

Abby hates the phrase “she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding,” as it seem both anatomically suspect  _and_  cliche, but as she nearly slumps over after he heads out to the admit desk, she reflects that there might be something to it after all.

It finally truly dawns on her near the end of the shift that they may have had a misunderstanding about what they want from each other when she’s trying to get past him in drug lockup—she’s not in a particular rush, but he’s occupied enough he doesn’t notice her at first. He steps back and nearly crashes into her so she puts a firm hand on his back as she squeaks, “Hold on!”

The shiver that runs through him as his muscles tense briefly before he leans back and whispers her name is a feeling she’ll probably remember when she’s old and too decrepit to act on what she wants now.

Somehow she makes it through the rest of the evening, and it isn’t until she’s on the train home that she lets herself consider the evidence. This entire shift aside, (a) he had been ridiculously happy and intent on persuading her to stay after she spent the night with him, and no one did that if they just wanted to be friends. And (b) the way he’d rambled and struggled for words after she’d hurried to protect her heart and shut him down...she suddenly wasn’t so sure friendship was what he wanted. Besides, it’s  _Luka_ , and words aren’t necessarily his thing.

...Huh.

&&&

One thing Luka hadn’t accounted for in coming up with this plan and its thus far flawless execution is how much it would affect  _him_.

The smiles, the giggles, the inside jokes, brushing against her...he wants to pull her into his arms, into his bed, and never let her go.

And it’s worse—or better, he supposes—now that she seems to have clued in to the game and decided to play along.

The neckline of her shirt is completely unfair. It’s not inappropriate for work, Abby’s too professional for that, but given that he’s intimately familiar with the curves being hinted at...well, it’s getting  _hard_  to concentrate.

He nearly chokes on his spit and ends up having a coughing fit while they’re working on a patient when Abby leans over to examine some abrasions. He’s looks up so he can point out some secondary bruising, but ends up with a view down her shirt. She’s wearing the same bra she wore (very briefly) that night at his apartment a week and a half ago, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to combust. 

She looks up at him in concern at first, but her expression quickly turns to amusement—and he thinks he sees a victorious gleam—when she follows his line of sight. “You okay there, Dr. Kovac?” she asks impishly.

“Fine. Fine,” he says, voice still tight.

It is not fine.

_You’re forty years old_ , he reminds himself,  _and this should not be a problem_.

He’s fairly sure his body does the equivalent of laughing at him.

&&&

She has to say, the shirt thing is working better than she could have planned. He’s looking at her like he wants to devour her, and she aches at the memory of his hands and lips on her.

But tormenting him a little is only fair after he’s been driving her mad. She’s actually going to die from the sexual tension.

Luka makes a point to compliment her whenever he sees her—which is occasionally a stretch, like a couple days ago when she’d seen him after working fourteen hours, but she does appreciate it.

Abby is also very appreciative of the way he bites his lip when he looks at her, the way his voice gets all low and gravelly as he whispers to her about...something. Honestly, he could be talking about stringing Clemente up, their patient’s status, or the weather, and she’s not sure she’d be able to pay attention when he’s so close and his lips are practically brushing her ear.

Then there had been what she privately calls  _The Incident_. A few days ago, she’d been in lockup. She had sighed, realizing the medicine she needed was on the top shelf.

“Need some help?”

Abby had nearly jumped out of her skin, but then she saw it was Luka, a frankly illegal smile on his face.

Brushing her hair away from her face, she had smiled back. “Sure, that would be...nice.”

Internally groaning at the word “nice”—she’s smart, surely she can find another word—she had told him what drug she needed and was ready to step aside for him to grab it.

Then that beautiful bastard had stepped behind her and placed a hand on her hip, leaning forward as he reached up. He had brought the vial down and asked, “Is this it?”

“Yep,” she had managed, breathing becoming rather difficult in the loose circle of his arms. In her panic, she had tried stepping back, only to find herself more thoroughly up against him. His breath had hitched, but he’d made no move to step away.

She has no idea how long they’d have stood there or what she might have done next if Haleh hadn’t walked in, and they had separated hastily.

That was when she had decided that he didn’t get to mess with her, not without getting some of his own medicine.

She’s fairly sure all this flirting and teasing is...courtship. A strange one, which suits them, but a courtship nonetheless.

They still have a couple hours left in the shift when she goes to the lounge and finds Luka sitting on the couch rubbing at his neck. It’s not a rough shift, necessarily, but it’s been busy, with multiple MVAs coming in, and he looks exhausted.

“You doing all right?”

He looks up at her and lightens, even if she can still hear the weariness in his response, “Yeah, just tired. And my neck hurts.”

Without thinking about it, she steps behind him and gently rests her hands on his shoulders, checking for the source of the pain. “Let me help.”

He stills, then nods. “Okay.”

So she doesn’t overthink, just digs in lightly along his shoulders and neck, letting his body language and occasional muttered curses tell her what to focus on next.

Then she finds a sensitive spot at the base of his skull, and he groans in pleasure as she kneads it.

Abby freezes. Somehow, out of the context where she had last heard him making that sound, it has even more of an effect on her. She really had just intended this to be a friendly gesture, though clearly their definition of “friendship” encompasses more than they dictionary would lead one to believe.

“Was that…?” she trails off, fingers dragging through the hair at the nape of his neck before returning her hands to his shoulders.

“It was...fine,” he says, voice ragged. Something in her crows in victory that at least she’s not alone in how affected she is.

“Good.”

There’s silence as she stands there behind him, trying to muster the courage to do something, anything—god knows she wants to climb him like a tree—when he turns to face her.

His eyes are dark, and he licks his lips as he stares up at her. Her hands are still on his shoulders, and he reaches up to rest one of his own hands over her wrist, thumb running over the sensitive skin there.

Abby is about to throw caution to the wind and climb into his lap when the door opens and Neela walks in, bee-lining for the coffee pot.

It’s enough to startle them both, and they move apart. Luka runs his hand through his hair, and babbles, “That’s much better. Uh, thank you, Dr. Lockhart.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re welcome, Dr. Kovac.”

Mischief glints in his eyes. “I could even say it was...nice.”

“Oh, shut up,” she says, fighting the smile tugging at her lips.

Neela clears her throat, and she finally remembers they have an audience. Luka stands up and grins, even if he’s just as pink as Abby knows she is. “Well, I need to head back to the floor. See you out there.”

She avoids Neela’s gaze until she says, “So, that was...convivial.”

“Friendly, even, would you say?” Her voice is quaking, and she’s losing the battle against laughter.

“Certainly, though I’m not sure I want to be friends with you anymore myself. Michael might be jealous.” At that, they both burst into giggles.

Abby goes and pours herself a cup of coffee and she and Neela walk over to the table. “So I take it you weren’t, uh, just having a laugh when you said you two had slept together.”

“I was not,” she says, fiddling with the rim of her styrofoam cup.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, that’s how I feel about it too.”

Neela leans back in her chair, sipping her coffee as she looks at Abby. “Does that mean you two are…?”

Abby sighs and shrugs. “We decided—well, we  _said_  we decided to just be friends.”

“And clearly that’s a smashing success,” Neela says, dry and sarcastic.

“It’s great. Completely removed any sexual tension, and there’s been no flirting since then, none at all.”

“I see. So...how long until you all sleep together again? Tomorrow? Next week? Or did I interrupt you just now?”

She snorts. “No, it’s fine. I have no idea, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s not inevitable, though.”

&&&

Luka wonders if applying for Chief is dumbest decision he’s ever made, and he’s certainly no stranger to stupid choices.

It’s time-consuming and obnoxious, having to kiss people’s asses. And worst of all, apparently now he has to play nice with Clemente so that Kerry can decide which one of them should get the job.

Remembering to bow and scrape  _and_ be solicitous of the most annoying ER doctor he’s ever met while he’s this distracted by being head over heels for Abby is asking too much.

If the night they slept together had reminded him that he was in no way over her and that the connection between them was alive and well, the other day had shown him that he was (still) deeply, passionately, and tenderly in love with her.

It had been a rough shift. Not the kind so bad incident debriefings got scheduled for it, but the kind that left you hesitant to be alone.

He knows Abby hates cases involving children, and ones involving neglect and abandonment hit even closer to home for her, so he had been unsurprised to find her in drug lockup staring off into space as soon as she could get away after the kids had been sent up to PICU. She had given him a weak smile when she saw him approach, and said, “Sorry, I’m hiding. Just give me a minute and I’ll be ready when the next case comes in.”

“It’s okay, Ray and Pratt can take it,” he had said, going over to stand next to her. “Honestly, if you want to go take a nap or have some more privacy, you can use the on-call room. No one will blame you, and if they do, they can talk to me. I’m going to try to take a nap myself.”

That had gotten him a chuckle, and he’d sighed in relief. “Okay. See you in there?”

He had agreed and watched her head down there. After finishing up a chart, he had followed her. She was in the far cot facing the wall, though she turned when he came in. “Hey.”

“Are you going to be okay?”  He had schucked off his coat and crawled into the other bed.

“Yeah, I just…well, this is one of those times I wish I could still drink.”

“Coffee isn’t quite the same.”

“Sadly.”

If he had thought it would make her feel better, he would have joked about how he was happy to provide what he did after their last difficult case, but he didn’t much feel like joking just then either. Instead, he had reached from his cot over to hers and rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

A sniffle, and then, “Me too.” She had reached up for his hand and threaded their fingers together, then said. “You know, this would be easier if you were closer.”

His heart had leapt and ached for her in equal measures, and he scooted closer. “I can get as close as you’d like,” he had whispered.

“This is good,” she had said, turning to face him and reaching for his hand again. She had given him a watery smile and closed her eyes.

Luka had stayed there with her, caressing her hand with his thumb until he heard the tell-tale sound of the deep breathing of slumber. At that point, he had drifted off too.

When Haleh had come in to wake him for a case nearly three hours later, he had felt a pang of disappointment at the sight of Abby’s empty cot, but Haleh had smirked and said, “Abby had to go see a returning patient of hers, but she said you were still sleeping.”

She mutters something about looking cozy, and he’s fairly sure Haleh knows  _something_ , but he can’t be bothered, honestly. Not when his heart is ready to burst from hope and want.

Shaking his head, he tries to listen to Clemente run the board, but his attention (and his heart) follows Abby to where she’s seeing to a patient.

As soon as he has a chance, he goes after her to let her know her tib-fib is ready, and he sees her struggling with her drunken head lac. He goes up behind her and helps her steady Glenda and fills her in on what Kerry is having him and Clemente do. He relishes the slight, subtle way she leans back into his chest, the flutter of her eyelashes as she jokingly reassures him she does indeed find him charming, and the fresh, clean scent of her shampoo.

It’s all he can do not to nose her hair aside and start trailing kisses down her neck, patients and appropriate work behavior be damned.

Later, as she chews him and Clemente out, he can hardly refrain from smiling.  _I adore her so much. She’s it for me. She’s it_ , he thinks.

&&&

Abby is fairly sure tonight is the night they’re going to snap when they’re in the ambulance bay and Luka laughs, completely okay with—and maybe even a little turned on by—her rebuke for earlier. She feels his eyes on her as she walks away, but she doesn’t dare look back. If she does, she won’t make it to the wedding, and she promised Neela.

Once Neela and Michael are married and she’s sitting with Luka—and she’s so proud of him and happy for him, the newest Chief of the ER—at the reception, she pokes fun at the newlyweds. “Ah, young love. They just have to show it off to everybody.”

Luka’s lips twitch and he raises his beer bottle in a toast. “Well, here’s to discretion.”

“Propriety,” she adds, raising her club soda, even as her heart beats faster.

“Maturity.”

She smiles up at him. “Well…”

He grins back. “No, no, not that,” he agrees, and they finish their drinks.

That’s it. This subtle acknowledgment is all she needs, and she’s ready to thumb her nose at maturity, and even at discretion and propriety a little bit. Luka obviously wants her, and they’re doing this. Tonight.

She bites her lip and glances over at him, catching him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Abby fakes a yawn. “Wow, long, crazy day.”

His eyes drift to her lips, and he nods. “Definitely. Uh, I can give you a lift home if you want?”

“Oh, um, I could use a ride, if it’s no trouble.” She’s not sure whether to cringe or high-five herself for the horrible and unintended  _ride_  pun, but it’s too late now.

“No, I could—well, I’m okay with leaving now, if you are.”

“Just let me let Neela know that I—that we’re heading out, okay?”

He swallows and nods again.

Abby weaves through the small crowd and makes her way to Neela and Michael. “Congratulations again, you two! Um, Neela, I’m feeling pretty wiped and Luka offered to give me a ride home, so I may be going. Unless you need me to stay…?”

Neela cackles. “No, it’s fine. Have a safe  _ride_  home, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Michael just beams up at her and shrugs, and she bids them farewell.

She heads back to Luka, eyes on him the whole time. He stands when she reaches him, their coats tucked over one arm as he places a hand at her waist. “Ready?”

“I’m ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream in OTP with me! Also, I kind of think this toes the line between T and M ratings, so let me know if you think the rating should be raised.


End file.
